


Survival Instinct

by ColorWithMarker



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Asthma, Gen, Panic Attacks, School Shootings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:10:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorWithMarker/pseuds/ColorWithMarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started out as any other Monday. It should have been any other Monday. But then every student is huddled in a classroom as gunshots ring out through the halls. Soon, they're more worried about if their class will be shot, or if their friends are still safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

Everything than can go wrong will go wrong on a Monday. That was Tony’s philosophy, something he’d proclaimed freshman year during lunch. Natasha and Pepper had rolled their eyes. Steve, Thor, and Bruce had failed to convince him otherwise. Clint had agreed wholeheartedly. He even added, “Watch – one Monday, the five of you will see our side of the spectrum.”

On Monday, February tenth, two thousand fourteen, in the prime of their junior year, everyone reported to their homerooms, as usual, with Tony spouting off his hatred of this day of the week.

“You’re only complaining because you have a hangover,” Natasha commented, eyes glued to her Advanced Russian textbook. “And because you’re starting every week off with a shitty attitude doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”

It was miraculous, how their core group of six – Pepper wasn’t usually included, as she was busy with her numerous academics and extra-curricular activities nowadays, and rarely talked to anyone other than Tony or Natasha in a given week – all had the same homeroom, doubling as their first-period English class. They were all in the first and second rows, taking up the last three seats. Tony claimed the back corner seat, where he’d be able to sleep through each lesson, with Thor next to him, his height letting him able to see over the heads in front of him, directly in front being Natasha. In front of her was Bruce, who took notes with Steve, who sat next to him, and Clint occupying the final one. As of that moment, all but Thor were present, with seven minutes to spare, and the class slowly filling up.

When the bell rang to signal a five-minute warning before class began, Thor walked in the room, face contorted with worry.

“You okay, big guy?” Tony asked as he sat down.

“Loki refused to come to school today,” Thor said, almost distant-sounding. “He claimed he felt ill last night and Mother let him stay in bed all yesterday and today, but there was something about his disposition that was… off-putting.”

“You know, I’ve had this weird feeling this morning, too,” Clint said. “Almost like I should be expecting something _big_. And not in the good way.”

“Just because you don’t like Loki doesn’t mean you can accuse him without any reasoning,” Natasha scolded.

The rest of the group kept their comments to themselves. Loki was Thor’s adopted brother, and only hung around when Thor or one of their parents forced him to. He was very sour around them, and could easily pick fights with Clint. If someone started a conversation he deemed intelligent enough, usually Bruce or Natasha, he’d contribute until he grew bored again. In fact, they were the only two he seemed to _like_. Clint, on the other hand, swore he was out to get them ever since he tried to shove Tony through a glass door.

“Don’t let his crush blind-side you,” Clint countered. Natasha rolled her eyes. Clint’s jokes about Loki being in love with her were getting old. “I know that prick is up to something. I can feel it.”

From there the conversation died. Natasha returned to her textbook. Tony and Bruce compared lab notes from their last experiment in physics. Clint and Thor stared into space, both keeping Loki on their minds. Steve took out his notebook and pen, ready to take notes on _Grendel_.

Once class officially started, their teacher, Mr. Xavier, walked into the room and stared at his class, all waiting for instructions. He sighed and said, “Today will be a free period. I feel we could all use one.” He then sat at his computer and began taking attendance:

“Robert Banner.”

“Here.”

“James Barnes… James Barnes…”

Steve turned toward the other back corner of the room, where Bucky usually sat ever since he and Natasha broke up. It was empty.

“Well, I guess James isn’t here. Clinton Barton.”

“Here.”

“Carol Danvers.”

“Here.”

“Jessica Drew.”

“Here.”

Now Steve was worried. Both Bucky _and_ Loki were absent?

“Kamala Khan.”

“Here.”

“Scott Lang.”

“Here.”

Once in a while, the two of them would work together to wreak havoc, whether it be scaring girls in the locker rooms or planting stink bombs in people’s lockers. When the two were together, they were bound to cause trouble.

“Barbara Morse.”

“Here.”

“Thor Odinson.”

“Present, sir.”

Lately, Bucky had been avoiding him. Not just when Natasha was around, but _always_. Steve would wave to him between classes, and Bucky would duck his head and walk faster. Football season had been over for a while, and track didn’t start for a few more weeks. There was nothing keeping them from spending time together like they used to.

“Peter Parker.”

“Here.”

“Henry Pym.”

“Here.”

His mind suddenly flashed to when they were younger, building pillow forts and telling ghost stories under them. Back when Steve was sick and frail. Bucky would always scare him, then hug him, promising it was just a story.

“James Rhodes.”

“Here.”

This was scarier than the ghost stories, and Steve didn’t know why.

“Steven Rogers.”

Steve snapped out of his daze, face reddening when he didn’t respond right away. “Here, sir.”

Mr. Xavier didn’t seem to notice. “Natasha Romanoff.”

“Here.”

Please let me be paranoid, Steve thought. Maybe it was Thor and Clint’s talking just getting to him.

“Anthony Stark.”

“Pree-sent.”

“Jonathan Storm.”

“Yo.”

Steve turned the other way to look at Clint. Now he had a bad feeling balling up in the pit of his stomach. Was he right?

“Janet van Dyne.”

“Here.”

Please let Clint be an idiot.

“Jennifer Walters.”

“Here.”

Please let Clint’s hatred of Mondays be the reason he feels weird.

“Samuel Wilson.”

“Here.”

Just… please.

* * *

Pepper shut the door behind her as she slipped into the empty computer lab. Today was a field trip for Mr. Lensherr’s classes to a computer manufacturing warehouse. The room also doubled as the yearbook clubroom, and the deadline for the finished product was four weeks away. Pepper had been given permission to spend the day editing and meeting said deadline. Now a junior, Pepper realized that not only were less people interested in helping out in yearbook club, but it was difficult to put one together when only two people actually did the work. Even better, her partner-in-crime wasn’t present today. Perfect.

Pepper placed her bag on an empty chair and turned on one of the computers. She was going to have a long ten hours of work ahead of her – she was already staying after school to do this, but she needed all the time she could put in to this.

About ten pictures in, of which she could identify only four of the seventeen people photographed, the window nearest to her was slammed open. Pepper jumped in her seat, barely catching herself before crashing onto the floor, before the culprit moved the shade aside and poked their head around.

Pepper straightened herself on her seat and stomped her foot on the ground. “I thought you were absent.”

“I was absent-minded about how late I stayed out and hurried over as soon as I woke up,” Loki countered as he gracefully entered through the window. “I was going to visit the front desk, but then I remembered that this window can’t be locked.”

“So you’re technically still absent?”

“Does it matter?”

Pepper took in her friend’s appearance. Loki was wearing a green halter top (Natasha’s), black skinny jeans (hers), black high-heeled ankle boots (a gift for Christmas from her to him), and the straps of a black thong were high on his bare torso (she hoped they were his – she hated when he stole her underwear). She gave him a look that warned him to confess why, as it was entirely against the dress code.

“Remember Thor’s older friend? That dashing blond army guy?” Loki asked. Pepper nodded. “Well, he called me last night and asked if I wanted to ‘hang out’ with him. So I snuck out, we watched some weird documentary on school shootings, and then we screwed around all night. I kind of fell asleep before leaving, so I left this morning before he woke up and hitched a ride here.”

“You’re a pig. Do I have to show you _Thirteen_ again?”

“Pepper, I’m fifteen. I can take care of myself. Besides, all it does is give me new outfit ideas. I’m not so easily swayed into becoming a good kid all of the sudden because Evan Rachel Wood’s character got fucked up.” Loki plopped onto the chair next to Pepper and smiled sweetly. “And how could I leave you to deal with the yearbook all by yourself?”

Pepper rolled her eyes but smiled back. She really did need the help, and Loki knew more faces than she did. He went out to all the parties and mingled with any new face he met. “So why a documentary on school shootings?” she asked as Loki logged on to a separate computer. “That’s not really a mood-setter.”

“He said he was giving a lecture to a public high school about how to respond in those kinds of situations,” Loki explained. “It was kind of cool. Did you know that if the person next to you is shot, you should put their blood on your face and body and play dead so you won’t be the next target?”

“That’s morbid!”

“Hey, if it saves your life, there’s no loss there. Besides, Pep, there’s no way you’d ever end up in a situation like that. The shooter would feel so guilty when he saw your pretty face that he’d give himself up.”

“Funny.” Pepper watched as Loki opened the website for the yearbook. “What else did you learn last night?”

“I kind of zoned out when I started sucking Fandral’s dick,” Loki answered casually.

Pepper rolled her eyes again and went back to identifying her peers in random pictures as the bell for second period rang loud and clear.

* * *

Emma Frost blew against her freshly-painted-white fingernails as she sat in the office for the principals. Currently, Headmaster Summers was in a meeting downtown with the board of education to discuss the possibility of having prom in the newly-built hotel by the school, which had a much larger ballroom than the one the school usually used. Assistant Headmistress Munroe was visiting schools in the area to discuss with them how much they would gain by attending one of the most prestigious and cheapest private schools, and how much it would help them academically. As head secretary, she was given the title of Headmistress for a Day (coined by Summers, who thought it was funny and cute, but his wife frowned at from the main office).

Suddenly, the door to the main office opened with a thud. Emma looked up to see a man holding a large duffel bag and pointing a handgun around the office. The women in the office let out tiny shrieks. Each were quickly silenced by the click of the hammer being pulled back.

Emma quietly slid under the desk. She didn’t have time to lock the door without giving herself away. Hopefully she wouldn’t be given away. However, there was a certain button in reaching distance that she could press to save quite a few lives.

As she heard more footsteps flood the main office, and the clicks of guns being put together, she pressed the button on the edge of the desk and went right back into hiding.

* * *

“ _To all staff, this is a message from your headmaster, Scott Summers, advising you to make sure all students have no electronics on them. It is vital that they aren’t distracted from their education. Please collect them and hold them until the end of the day. Thank you for your cooperation.”_

In the teachers and students’ handbooks, the phrase was placed in there as a warning that they were to go into lockdown mode, and that it was not a drill.

Natasha, who was posed to serve the volleyball across the net and was ready to see if she could hit Johnny Storm in the face, dropped the ball at the message. It was one that had never been played aloud. The entire gym went silent. No one knew what to do.

“All those playing volleyball, go to the girls’ locker room immediately!” Coach Chang shouted. “All those playing basketball or using the exercise equipment, go to the boys’ locker room immediately!” The coach then used grand arm gestures to motion the students on her half of the gym into the locker room. Natasha obeyed, falling in line with Tony and Sam as they filed into the locker room.

“I finally get to see what this place looks like,” Tony joked.

“Don’t screw around,” Natasha ordered.

“Into the showers, students!” Coach Chang ordered. “Huddle in there! All of you!”

Sam sat cross-legged on the floor, not caring that his gym shorts were getting wet, and let Natasha sit on his lap, while Tony crouched beside them. The other students were all sitting or standing against the walls, whispering amongst themselves about their believability and lack of about the situation.

“You think this is real?” Bobbi asked, loud enough for Natasha to hear.

“Nah,” Johnny answered. “Probably trying to scare us shitless.”

“But they’ve never used it before,” Peter pointed out. “It could be real.”

“We’ll see what happens,” Harry said.

Natasha inhaled and exhaled deeply. This wasn’t a situation she was used to.

Then they heard the faint echoes of gunshots. The room went silent. Only the faint drip of one of the showerheads was heard.

Sam instinctively hugged Natasha closer, as if the killer was right in front of them and ready to open fire. She would usually oppose, but now wasn’t the time. She let Sam hold her and prayed they wouldn’t come this way.

* * *

 

“Of course today is the day I came to class late,” Bucky muttered as he and the rest of the math class were pressed in the farthest corner of the room.

“You should be lucky you came earlier,” Sharon hissed. “If you showed up now, they’d kill you.”

“If I didn’t show up at all, I’d be safe.”

“How considerate.”

The gunshots stopped their bickering. It sounded close, but not too close. Definitely on the ground floor, though.

Steve suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.

* * *

Thor was surprised as how calm Jane was. Darcy, on the other hand, was silently crying, her hand gripping Jane’s so hard her knuckles were white. Thor was surprised at how scared Sif looked. Most of all, he was surprised at how calm  _he_ was.

Perhaps it was because he had everyone he needed to worry about with him. Loki was at home, safe from harm.

* * *

“Loki, please, I don’t want to hide in the cabinet!” Pepper whispered in protest.

“The classroom is supposed to be empty anyway,” Loki insisted. “And they won’t think to look in here. Now please let me do this!”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Just stay in here until the police come, okay?”

Pepper looked into her friend’s eyes. She wanted to trust him, but she was scared for him too. “Okay.”

* * *

 

The best part about science classrooms, Clint realized, was that there was a smaller room inside of it, big enough for all of the students to hide in. So, lucky for him, instead of having to do another lab for AP Chemistry, he could sit in here with Bruce, who was trying to help everyone do breathing exercises to say calm.


	2. Natasha, Sam, and Tony - Girls' Locker Room

When she was younger, Natasha had been trained by her ballet instructors to remain still for long periods of time. Why? There had been several recitals where Natasha’s part was killed off or a statue, and she was younger, lighter, and patient compared to the other girls. It was a tactic she used often in life, mostly to help her concentrate on studying.

Right now, the tactic was being used to keep herself calm, while other students huddled and cried silently. Johnny Storm, the playboy that he was, had a lapful of Bobbi Morse keeping him company, and was even eying Natasha, as if he was trying to extend his comfort over to her. Even in serious situations, some men were still trying to get a piece of ass. Despicable, she thought.

She was no longer sitting in Sam’s lap, but had moved over to sit in Tony’s instead. Any other time, he would have cracked joke after joke, saying things like, “I knew you’d come to me eventually.” However, he wasn’t acting like Johnny. He was too focused on his phone to do so.

“Pepper isn’t replying to my texts,” he said. “She always replies to my texts right away.”

“Maybe she doesn’t have her phone,” Natasha offered.

“But she always has her phone too.”

“This isn’t a situation where her first priority is her phone. It’s staying safe with everyone else. She’s in history class with Steve right now. She’s fine.”

“No, she’s not.” Natasha raised an eyebrow and turned her head to face Tony. “Today she’s in the computer lab working on the yearbook.”

“There are seven students on the yearbook staff.”

“Yeah, but she’s the only one doing the damn thing. Well, her and Loki, but the little shit isn’t here today. She’s stuck in that room all by herself, probably wondering when I’m going to get to her.” Tony tried to push Natasha off his lap. “Let me up. I need to get Pepper.”

“I’m not letting you go anywhere, Tony,” Natasha said sternly, holding her ground and not budging against Tony’s push. “You running out there is only going to get all of us killed.”

“But I can’t help Pepper from here!”

“And you’re not going to help Pepper by getting yourself killed. Pepper’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

“But… but…”

Tony’s breaths grew shorter and shorter. Natasha moved off his lap and kneeled in front of him. Tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes. His left hand began clutching his chest, fingers wound tightly in the fabric of his white gym shirt. His gaze danced from left to right, trying to find focus on something, anything else.

Natasha had only heard from Pepper that Tony had panic attacks now and then, but she hadn’t really believed it. Tony was too suave to be so scared of anything, in her opinion. But now it was all too real for her.

Natasha put her hands on either side of Tony’s face and pulled him close. “Focus on me,” she whispered quietly enough so only he could hear her. Tony now looking at the ceiling. “Tony, I need you to focus. Look me in the eye.” He listened. Tears were now rolling down his cheek. “Good. Look into my eyes and listen to my voice. Just listen to me speak.”

“You say that like it’s easy,” Tony whimpered.

“I wouldn’t know. This is my first time coaching someone through a panic attack.”

Tony let out a breathy laugh. “First time I didn’t rub a handful of ice cubes on my face to calm down.”

Natasha chuckled. “Now you need to take a deep breath,” she instructed, before demonstrating. “Now match my breathing, okay? Breathe in… two… three… four… five… and out… two… three… four… five… you’re doing great. Now again…”

Tony struggled to follow Natasha at first, but he did get control of himself and managed to regain control of his breathing. Natasha smiled as Tony was able to slowly calm down. She had no idea what she was doing at first, but hey, at least it worked out.

“Nat.” Natasha looked up to see Sam, who was outside the showers and by the lockers. Natasha handed Tony his phone, telling him to play a game to keep himself occupied (read: distracted), and walked over to Sam.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Coach Chang locked herself in the office,” Sam said. “She’s been talking to Coach Fury about what to do, and he said not to react until one of those assholes with guns breaks in here.”

“That’s reckless. If anything, we’re more vulnerable by her being secluded. No one would bother with the office. If anything, she’ll just lock herself up without a single care for us.”

“Now I see why Coach Fury always calls her selfish.”

“We can’t just sit out in the open. Half of us could be killed before she did anything, and then she’d just get herself killed with the rest of us.”

“Which is why I want to find any weapons we can use for self-defense if we get targeted.”

Natasha’s eyebrows rose at Sam’s statement. “You want to put these people in charge of saving the day?” she asked. “Do we not attend the same school? Do you know these people?”

“In different situations, people act in different ways,” Sam said. He peered around Natasha and into the showers, where everyone was still huddled around. Natasha looked over her shoulder at Tony. He was engrossed with his phone. Hopefully, he was playing a game and not texting Pepper. Sam spoke again, taking her attention away from Tony. “You did good, calming him down. I’ve never seen him so… not Tony,” he said.

“He’s worried about Pepper,” she said. “Apparently it triggered something in him. I don’t know where it came from, but it’s got a hold of him.”

“She’ll be fine. Everyone will be fine. We all have someone to look out for. For him, it’s Pepper, and for you, it’s Bucky.”

Natasha wanted to force herself to glare at Sam, but she couldn’t bring herself to. As bad of a break-up as they’d had, she did care about him. “I know he’ll be fine,” she said. “He’s got Steve.” She turned and nodded to Sam. “Who do you have to worry about?”

“Everyone in here. They’re the only ones I can do something for. And right now, I want them to do something for all of us. Doesn’t matter how many gun-toting idiots are in here, because there is no one more determined than a person who will do anything to survive.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. She motioned for Sam to follow as she walked through a row of lockers and to a closet. She pulled a bobby pin tucked in the back of her head (you never know when there’s going to be a lock you need to pick) and used it to unlock the door. Inside was various pieces of gym equipment, mostly tennis rackets and hockey sticks. Natasha grabbed a handful of each and passed them to Sam, before grabbing some more to carry herself.

“This should be enough,” she said before closing the door. She observed the tops of the lockers. “We can get a few people to hide up there with some of the weapons. You know, jump down on unsuspecting gunmen.”

“Good thinking. I want you up there.”

“Why? I’d be better down on the ground, don’t you think?”

“Yes, you would, but that’s not your priority right now.”

“What is my priority?”

“Him.” Sam nodded at Tony, who was in the same position as he was last time they’d looked.

“I’m not following,” Natasha said.

“Tony’s pretty messed up right now. His best friend is out there, and he’s stuck in here. There’s nothing he can do but sit and wait to see if she’s alright. It going to screw up his judgment, so if someone comes in here, he’ll do something stupid and get himself hurt. And you too. You’re not showing it, but I don’t believe for one second that you wouldn’t try to strangle someone to get your way to Bucky or Clint.”

“So you want me to not help?” Natasha asked.

“No. I want you to. You’ll help by saving the two of you from yourselves.”

“Sam–”

“I know that you could outdo every one of us combined, but that’s not what makes you a hero,” Sam interrupted. “You’ll be a hero by doing what I said.”

“If I do so, I get five free hits on any part of your body, and you won’t see any of them coming.”

“As long as it’s not the nuts or the face, you’re good.”

“Deal.” Natasha gave random students a hockey stick or a tennis racket, then pulled Tony to his feet. “Follow me and don’t say a word until I tell you to,” she ordered. She led Tony to the furthest row of lockers from the door. She opened one of the lockers and helped Tony climb on top, before following without his assistance. He was lying flat on his back, with her pressed against him. “Now you can talk, and to answer your question, Sam said it’d be best for us to stay up here. He says our worries over other people could cloud our judgment and potentially cause more harm than good. Ergo, we’re to stay here unless we need to get down and kick some ass.”

“I don’t understand why he would–”

It had been approximately fifteen minutes since the last gunshot was fired, Natasha surmised, so of course, it was decided that there needed to be more. It was only one shot, and it didn’t sound close at all, but it was enough to make her and Tony (and probably the rest of the class, but she couldn’t see any of them) jump and tense.

“It sounded like it came from the other side of the building,” she whispered.

“The computer labs are on the other side of the building,” Tony whispered back.

“There are several computer labs, Tony.”

“But with the field trip, how many do you think are occupied?” Tony tried to take his phone from his pocket, but it slipped and fell with a dull thud on someone’s pile of clothes on a bench. “Fuck! Natasha, get that for me, would you?”

“You don’t need your phone right now, Tony,” Natasha insisted.

“Yes, I do!”

“If Pepper hasn’t replied yet, she most likely won’t now.”

“That doesn’t mean anything! I need to know that she’s okay!”

“She is.”

“But what if she isn’t?”

“Then we’ll wait and see.”

“I need to know! Natasha, I – mmph!” Tony was cut off by Natasha, who placed her hand over his mouth and shushed him.

“Calm down,” she ordered. “You getting worked up won’t change anything, okay? All we can do is sit here and hope that everyone we know is safe. Can you do that with me?” Tony hesitated, but he nodded. Natasha removed her hand. She was a hypocrite about not worrying – she was ready to climb through the air ducts to find her friends – but she knew that Sam was right. Right now, she had to be here for Tony. He wasn’t going to get by unless she was.

“You know,” Tony said, interrupting her thoughts, “if this were any other time and place, this would be such a turn-on.”

Natasha held back a laugh and smiled at Tony. “There’s the pervert I know,” she said.

Tony reached up and tucked a piece of Natasha’s hair hanging in her face behind her ear. “If this was a movie, especially if Lifetime was behind it, we would end up dating after this was all over.”

“Would we now?”

“Uh huh. And it’d be the greatest sex of both our lives.”

Natasha snorted. “I’m telling Pepper you said that.”

Tony was now smiling his usual idiot smile. “Good. Maybe I can use that to convince her to have a three-way with us as an anniversary present.”

“Keep on dreaming, Stark.”

Natasha rounded off their time trapped in the locker room to an hour. During that hour, there were four more rounds of gunshots, none of which were in the locker room, thankfully, or even near it. Each time they heard the echoing boom, while Natasha couldn’t hear or see the class react (damn, Sam must have a good hold on them), she would instinctively lower herself on Tony, as if shielding him, while Tony would wrap his arms around Natasha and hold her closer. If three minutes passed without another sound, they’d move apart again, but unknowingly stayed a few inches apart when they did so. Natasha began to wonder when this would all end. Tony had stopped worrying about Pepper and instead focused on keeping Natasha safe, and vice-versa for her with Bucky, Clint, and anyone else she could name.

Suddenly, a little after their hour being trapped, someone banged on the door. Someone yelped from below. Natasha found herself being cradled to Tony’s chest, and though on any other day she’d kick his ass for even trying a stunt like this, she found herself wanting Tony to hold her. She felt unusually safe, though at the same she was thinking that the last face she’d ever see was Tony’s.

A door burst open, and Coach Chang called out, “It’s alright, guys! It’s the police! Everything’s under control!” Natasha exhaled deeply, so grateful that this was all over. She pulled out of Tony’s grasp and lowered herself to the floor, then helping Tony down. She threw an arm over his shoulders as they followed their classmates out of the door. Tony wrapped his around her waist in response. Sam fell in line beside her.

“I’m sorry, Nat, but you need to understand that I did what I thought was best for all of us,” he said.

“I know,” Natasha said. “Thank you for doing so.”

Everything outside the school was chaotic. There were dozens of ambulances from all around the county running around and assessing the students. Police cars had blockaded the roads and were arresting the gunmen (there were at least seven from what Natasha could see). Students had flooded the front yard, crying and hugging their friends and boyfriends and girlfriends, happy to see that they’re safe. Natasha scanned the crowd, but she couldn’t find a familiar face.

“Tony!” All three turned their heads just in time to see Bruce pushed through the crowd, waving with an exasperated smile on his face. Clint and Maria Hill were behind him. All three had singed hair and clothes, and Clint had a bruise on his forehead. Natasha pulled away from Tony to pull Clint into a tight hug.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Just peachy. Bruce ended up doing some unorthodox things in the chemistry lab, but it saved our asses in the long run.”

Natasha pulled back, but didn’t let go of him. “And the others? Have you seen them?”

Clint shook his head. “None of them. Sorry, Nat. But I’m sure they’re safe.”

Natasha nodded and hugged Clint again. She scanned the crowd for another familiar face, waiting for on to fall in her line of vision. Fortunately, one did. Unfortunately, it was sitting in an ambulance. Natasha pushed away from Clint and ignored him calling out her name as she ran through the crowd, dodging around and shoving aside anyone in her way as she dashed across the schoolyard to reach her friend.

“Natasha! You’re alive!” Steve exclaimed. He sounded extremely out of breath and was very pale.

“Are you okay? What happened?” she demanded.

“It’s okay. Just an asthma attack.” Steve smiled weakly and waved a generic inhaler at her. “Forgot mine at home. I hadn’t needed it in so long that I just left it in my sock drawer.”

“Of course you did.” Natasha sat down beside him. “But you’re fine now?”

“Yep. Sharon and Bucky helped me through it the best they could.”

“And where are they? They’re fine, right?”

Steve’s jaw tightened. Natasha turned to face him and narrowed her eyes. “You better lie and tell me that they’re okay, Steven Grant Rogers, or I swear I will kill you with that inhaler.”

“Sharon’s fine,” Steve said. “But Buck… Bucky…”

Natasha felt the tears roll down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around her legs and his her face against her knees. She was strong all this time. She couldn’t let her barriers fall now.

“Oh, god, Nat, I didn’t mean it like that!” Steve exclaimed. “He’s alive, I’m sure of it! But one of them broke into the room and messed him up. He’s alive though!”

“Steve, you asshole, why couldn’t you just say that?!” Natasha shouted.

“Because I don’t know how to tell _what_ happened to him! I didn’t mean to scare you like that! I’m sorry!”

All the tears Natasha had been holding in let loose. Steve hugged Natasha close and let her cry against him, apologizing for upsetting her and letting her hit him. She wasn’t going to be mad at him forever, but she needed someone to be mad at _now_. And that was okay with him. She needed it.


	3. Bucky, Steve, and Sharon – AP US History Classroom

Steve grabbed on to Bucky's shirt and tugged as hard as he can. "Buck…" he gasped.

"Quiet, man, I'm looking for your damn inhaler!" Bucky hissed.

"Not… in there…"

"Then where the hell is it?"

"…home…"

"Damn it, Rogers, who screwed your head on backwards?" Bucky turned to the rest of the class. "Does anybody in here have an inhaler?"

Everybody shook their heads.

"Look, Barnes, you need to calm down," Mr. Howlett demanded. "We're on the ground floor. Maybe one of us can get him outta here without those bozos with guns noticing."

"Wait!" Mary Jane hissed. "The cards!"

"What?"

"The cards!" Mary Jane crawled across the room and grabbed a red card with the classroom number written on it. "If we slide the red card underneath the door, the cops will know to get to us out of here first!"

Gun shots rang out from around the computer labs. Many students clamped their hands over their mouths to stop from screaming.

"Just do it!" Mr. Howlett hissed. Mary Jane nodded and slipped the card underneath the door. She crawled back over to Gwen Stacy's side and nodded as her friend assured that everything was okay.

The cards were a system developed by the school board for incidents like this. Sliding a green card under the door meant the classroom was okay. Sliding a red card meant someone was hurt or in need of immediate attention by the police or whomever came to their aid. Each room had a set of cards with the corresponding room number written on it. Mr. Howlett was against them, saying they were just asking for people to target them. But they were typically used in drills. This was a serious situation, and someone was in need of immediate attention.

Steve continued gasping for air.

Bucky looked between the door and his friend.

"Sorry," Steve choked out.

"You can't help it," Sharon coaxed.

Another minute passed. Only Steve's harsh gasps filled the silence.

"Barnes," Mr. Howlett grunted.

"Yes, sir?" Bucky replied.

"Grab some chairs and board them against the door."

"Why me?"

"Because you're the muscles without the asthma and I told you to, damn it!"

Bucky let out a small whine but did as he was told. He hated that he wasn't the rebellious one in the group. If he were Tony or Clint, he wouldn't have done anything. But he stood and gulped before stacking six chairs against the classroom door. When he was finished, he looked over his shoulder at his classmates, huddled and shaking. Steve smiled weakly. Bucky smiled back. This was to help Steve, he told himself.

"Hey!" a voice outside exclaimed. Everyone froze in terror. Bucky looked down. There was a shadow of a person outside the classroom. The shadow bent down and picked up something. "Looks like we got some kids in need in here."

No, no, no, this was bad! Bucky panicked and looked back at his classmates. They were…  _relieved?_  Of course they were! They didn't know who this could be. Neither did Bucky, but he didn't want to assume the best right away. There was no way the police and gunmen were in the same building already, at least not without confrontation.

The doorknob jiggled. "Hey, is anybody in there?" the voice called out. The knob continued to jiggle. Bucky hoped they gave up and walked away. The door was locked. What could they do?

"Hey, I know you're in there!" The jiggling increased. It sounded violent from the other side. "I hear someone wheezing in there! You're giving yourself up, kid!"

Bucky turned to Steve. He had panicked, leading to even heavier breathing. Sharon tried calming him down. He faced the door again.

"You got till the count of three! One… two…"

The glass on the door shattered. A few people screamed as a hand yanked at the blind covering the broken glass and tugging it so the shooter could see their target. Bucky wanted to run away, but he found himself fighting to keep the shade pulled shut.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" Sharon hissed. Bucky ignored her. Whoever was on the other side grew angry and started hitting his gun blindly at the shade to hit Bucky. He didn't even reach.

"Fuck off, kid!" the person growled.

"You fuck off!" Bucky snapped. He surprised himself. Rarely did he curse. That was Steve's bad habit, not his.

A knife suddenly cut through the shade. Bucky ducked to miss the swipe. Before he could pop back up, the knife came down and right through his left forearm. Bucky froze and gasped in shock, before howling in pain as the knife was dragged down his arm, right by his elbow down to his wrist. The blade was withdrawn painted red. Bucky fell back and blacked out.

* * *

Sharon tried her hardest not to scream in terror as Bucky collapsed on the floor, his arm gushing blood.

Mr. Howlett charged forward and grabbed the intruder's arm, pulling him forward and knocking him unconscious with a few punches. He pulled the man through the broken window and laid him down on the floor. He searched the body and collected the gun, extra bullets, and two knives from him.

No one made a move toward Bucky.

Mr. Howlett looked at his class and asked, "Is no one going to help him?"

Steve squeezed Sharon's hand. "Help him," he wheezed.

She nodded and crawled over to Bucky. It was hard not to vomit at the sight of blood everywhere. "What should I do?" she asked.

Mr. Howlett took off his shirt and threw it at her. "Wrap it over the wound and apply pressure," he ordered. He looked up. "Someone help her! This ain't a one-person job!"

"Yes, sir!" Kamala exclaimed. She crawled over and took some hairbands from her wrist. She helped knot parts of the shirt around Bucky's arm. The once-yellow shirt was now a deep red.

"Listen and listen good," Mr. Howlett whispered loudly. Everyone leaned in to hear him. "The next class over has larger windows. Large enough to slip out students. Since it's empty, you can just walk right on in. You need to get Barnes and Rogers out first, then the rest of you can run to the gas station down the road if the cops aren't already outside. You got that?" Twenty heads nodded in agreement. "Good. You have two minutes to grab whatever shit you need."

"What do you need?" Kamala asked.

Sharon gulped. "Just my phone. It's in my front pocket."

"And him?"

Sharon looked down at Bucky. "He… he was late to school. He didn't bring anything," she said, spacey. If he had been a few minutes later, he might have not been able to get into the school. Then he wouldn't be bleeding out in AP History, because Steve forgot his inhaler on the day he had an asthma attack.

"Here." Sharon looked up to see Kamala holding out her Android. Sharon nodded in acknowledgement and put it in her back pocket.

"Thanks," she replied absently.

"Hey." Kamala reached over and grabbed one of Sharon's hands. She squeezed it gently. "He's going to be okay."

Sharon nodded. "Right."

"Time's up," Mr. Howlett hissed. He had moved all the chairs Bucky had stacked aside. He opened the door, the intruder's gun in hand, and checked down the halls. "Coast is clear. Watson, take the lead. Let the two boys through first." Mary Jane nodded and led the way. Kamala hoisted Bucky into her arms bridal-style while Sharon held Bucky's arm, impressed by how strong the other much-thinner girl was. Gwen helped Steve and whispered to him encouragements. Mary Jane opened the classroom door open and crossed over quickly to open the windows. They were wide enough for even Mr. Howlett to slide through without any struggle.

"You go first," Kamala told Sharon. "I'll pass him to you."

"Are you sure?" Sharon asked. She was nowhere near as strong as Kamala, at least not enough to hold Bucky.

"Yes. Just do it."

"Okay…"

Mary Jane helped Sharon climb out the window. Bucky followed shortly after her. Sharon dragged him a few feet away to make room for Kamala. She saw that they were letting Steve through first, giving Sharon the chance to see what was happening outside.

The street was flooded with police cars and ambulances. There were officers at windows on the other side of the building helping students through. Others came as well – nearby families, people on their way to work, a news station van with their cameramen and journalist preparing to film the action. It felt far away and claustrophobic at once.

"Sharon!" Kamala exclaimed, shaking Sharon out of her trance. "We need to get him over there!"

Sharon nodded. "Right," she said. She helped Kamala pick him up and went back to holding pressure over the wound. The blood was oozing through his shirt now, and now staining her hands. Kamala's shirt, though black, appeared to be wet with blood, but she wasn't freaking out like Sharon was. She was more focused on helping Bucky.

A group of ambulance attendants met them halfway with a gurney and gauze wrap. They helped the girls lay Bucky down on the gurney and began bandaging him properly. Sharon just stared at the bloody arm, watching the white sheet beneath it turn crimson. She hardly registered the other attendants asking her if she was alright, or Kamala asking if she wanted to stay with Bucky or Steve. All she remembered was being placed in the front seat of an ambulance by someone.

She didn't want this. She wasn't prepared for this. No one was. They never taught you to be ready for school shootings until you were out of college. She hadn't gone into school thinking she or her friends were going to die.

Sharon looked in the rearview mirror as they drove away. The police were still helping students out of the building through the window. She wondered who else she knew was hurt or safe.

She looked out the windshield and blocked that thought. She didn't want to know anymore. She didn't know if she could handle the answer she would receive.


	4. Bruce, Clint, and Maria – AP Chemistry Lab

Clint crawled across the room to the door, where Maria was leaning back against it with a surprisingly calm face. He kneeled beside her and sighed. "How're you holding up?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Not the first time I've been stuck in the same building as an armed nutjob," she said. "You?"

"Same. My brother's apartment in New York is messed up."

"Chicago's no better." Maria balled her hand into a fist. "You'd think a prestigious private school would be better than some run-down building. Just goes to show that you can never escape anything."

"Westchester might be a step up from everywhere else in the country, but it doesn't mean crazy people can't find their way here," Clint said. He looked over to Bruce, who was comforting his cousin Jennifer. "We can't just sit in here."

"I'm starting to feel claustrophobic. Imagine if one of them has a panic attack." Maria tugged at the collar of her navy polo. "But the closet is safer than the classroom. Be grateful there are only thirteen of us instead of thirty."

"Guess that's true." Clint moved from kneeling into sitting, his legs bent and knees close to his chest. "Did I ever tell you that I hate Mondays?"

"Now you have a reason to."

Clint sighed. He looked at Maria's fist, noticing the knuckles slowly whitening. "You look like you could use a cigarette," he said.

She snorted. "You got one?" she asked jokingly.

"Never leave without." Clint pulled out a crumpled pack from his pocket, opening it to reveal six cigarettes and a lighter.

"Huh. Well I'll be damned." Maria held out her hand in refusal and shook her head. "But now's not the time of place."

Clint nodded and pocketed the cigarettes. "When we get out of this mess, we can smoke."

"'When' and not 'if'? Well aren't you an optimist today, Barton."

"I'd rather not scare van Dyne any more than she already is."

"You think she's bad, Pym looks ready to piss himself."

Bruce scooted over to where they were in time to catch the end of their conversation. "How considerate," he said. "Only you two would make jokes in this situation."

"At least we aren't ready to piss ourselves," Maria replied casually.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Well, since you two are bragging about being the only two people not scared to death in a life-or-death situation," he continued, "you mind helping me?"

"I'm not the comforting type," Maria answered.

"My form of comforting is usually sexual," Clint added.

Bruce looked between the two of them like he'd never met them before. "I seriously need to make new friends," he said. He shook his head in disgust. He stood and moved the blind over the window slightly to peer into the main classroom. "It's clear. For now." He walked across the room to check the other side, since Mr. McCoy was too distracted to stop him. Bruce's eyes widened when he moved back the blind. "Holy shit."

"What? Are they in there?" Clint asked.

"No. Ms. MacTaggert left out a cooler of dry ice." Bruce turned back to them. "The class is empty, but I'm sure the door is unlocked. If we could get out hands on it…" Bruce looked back out the window. Clint and Maria shared a look and each shrugged. Who was wiser than Bruce? Plus, if anything went wrong, they could blame him and haunt him from beyond the grave.

"Keep McCoy distracted for a few minutes," Maria ordered as she stood up. She turned and pulled Clint to his feet, holding him steady when he almost fell back down.

"Like you said, no one is freaking out like Hank Pym," Bruce said. "Now make it quick."

"Aye, aye, captain," Clint said, saluting him. Bruce groaned and opened the door to the other science lab wide enough for Clint and Maria to slip through the opening.

Maria motioned for Clint to stay behind as she walked quietly across the room (seriously, how did girls do that? It always annoyed Clint how easily Natasha could do it) and crawled beneath the uncovered window. She then looked outside the window, nodding to Clint in approval when she saw that no one was around, before walking back over.

"We're in the far end of an upstairs hall," she murmured. "They probably haven't made it this far yet."

"What about the gym?" Clint asked. "That's where Tasha is."

"And Sam and Tony are there to make sure she's okay, though knowing her, she'll be fine." She moved to one end of the cooler. Clint moved to the other. "On three. One… two…"

Just before she said three, gunshots echoed down the hall. It wasn't too close, but it was definitely upstairs. Screams shortly followed.

"Hurry!" Clint cried. He and Maria picked up the cooler and quickly scooted back toward the closet. Bruce opened the door before they reached it. By the time Mr. McCoy looked over from his shaking and crying students. Clint and Maria were sitting on the cooler like it had been there all along, while Bruce was sitting on the floor with his eyes closed and legs crossed. The students grinned when he turned back around.

"I never knew you were such a bad student, Bruce," Maria commended.

"Well, when you hang around Tony too much, it starts to rub off on you," Bruce said.

Clint kicked his heel against the cooler. "Now that we risked our lives for this, what's the next step, Brucey?" he asked.

"Glad you asked. You still have that two-liter of Sprite in your lab cabinet that you stole from Thor last week?"

"Yeah."

"That was you?" Maria asked. "Loki spent two days bitching about it!"

"That was Loki's?" Clint asked. "Good thing I haven't drank from it yet! I don't want any of his diseases."

"Focus, children!" Bruce interrupted. He paused to collect himself. "Dry ice in a container of liquid can explode. If we get that set up somewhere, at the least, we can cause a distraction."

"Two things," Maria said. "First, we could accidentally lure them here–"

"Which we won't do, I promise," Bruce said.

"–and second, can we use water bottles too? I'm sure we can find at least three more."

"What about fire?" Clint asked. "Can we use fire?"

Bruce and Maria stared at Clint. "Anyway," Bruce said, "yes, we can use water bottles."

"Wanna get started?" Maria asked.

"Might as well before the teacher catches on."

Again, Bruce stood guard as Clint and Maria moved the cooler into their classroom. This time, Bruce followed them. He waited for Maria to scavenge every bag in the room, returning with seven bottles of water, while Clint came back bearing the bottle of Sprite, now holding it a distance away from him like it was poisonous.

"You're so immature," Bruce muttered as he took the bottle from Clint.

"Would an immature person bring this from his lab cabinet?" Clint asked, brandishing a bottle of lighter fluid from behind him.

"Did you have that in your pants?" Maria asked.

"How long have you had that in your lab cabinet?" Bruce asked.

Clint shrugged. "I needed to refill my lighter somewhere. Nobody's noticed it so far."

"In a room filled with faucets that pour out gas and that has Bunsen burners, you are refilling your lighter."

"Do you want me to punch him for you?" Maria asked.

"Just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," Bruce replied.

"Oh, come on, Bruce, lighten up!" Clint said. "I'm just joking."

"You're acting like Tony would in this kind of situation, and I'm going to lose my temper."

"And what're you gonna do about it?"

"Remember when Tony had a black eye last month?"

Clint gasped. "He said that was from a failed experiment."

"Now you know the truth. So sit on the floor and stop getting in the way."

"Fine!" Clint crossed his arms and sat on the floor, pouting like a child. Maria and Bruce rolled their eyes and began setting the bottles by the door. Clint busied himself untying and retying his shoelaces. He heard the two of them moving things around and walking back and forth, but he didn't look up. Not until about ten minutes had passed, and there was a knock on the door. Maria and Bruce were standing by the door, holding dry ice in towels in their hands over the open bottles and stiff as boards.

"Anybody home?" a deep voice asked. Something else knocked on the door, much heavier than a hand.

"Drop it!" Bruce hissed. He and Maria started putting the ice in each bottle and recapping them, before quietly moving back by Clint.

"How long does it take?" Maria asked. Clint was impressed at how relaxed her voice was.

"About a minute, maybe more," Bruce answered.

Maria and Clint's eyes widened. "Bruce!"

"I'm sorry!" Bruce said.

"You waited until someone came around to the door to say that?" Maria asked.

"Sorry!"

Clint looked down at the bottle of lighter fluid. Well, clearly, they weren't moving to go back into the closet, nor would they be able to without giving up the rest of the class. It was do or die. Nothing left to lose. Why the hell not?

Clint grabbed the bottle, opened it, and squeezed it as hard as he could, pouring the liquid on the door and slowly-expanding plastic bottles.

"Clint, what the hell are you doing?" Bruce hissed.

"Improvising!" Clint answered. He was barely heard over the locked doorknob being turned violently.

"Open the door, you shits!" the gunman growled.

Clint threw the bottle at the door, luckily leaving a trail of lighter fluid from him to the door. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his cigarette pack, and took out the lighter.

"You better know what you're doing, Barton," Maria said.

"We'll find out," Clint said. He flicked the lighter a few times before he got a flame, then held it to the lighter fluid. He pulled back the second it lit up. He grinned when the fire soon spread to the door. The bottles with dry ice were still expanding.

"Back up," Bruce ordered.

The gunman shot the doorknob. The door jumped with force. Bruce, Clint, and Maria backed up against the wall.

"I'm so sorry," Clint said, before holding his arms over his head and hoping it would end quickly.

Suddenly, the bottles exploded, forcing the door open and sending the gunman flying backwards. Along with the force of the explosion was a ring of fire that hit the three students, all of whom were shielding their faces.

After a minute, Clint looked up. The door was wide open, and their attacker was lying still against the lockers. Some papers were on fire, but not to the point where the classroom was going to burn down. Bruce and Maria lowered their arms as well. Clint looked at them. They both had slight burn marks on their faces, hair, and clothes. He probably looked no better.

"Whoa," a police officer said as he approached the room. The students gulped. Their classmates and teacher slowly exited the closet. They were dead.

"Nice one," the police officer continued. He looked between the gunman and the students. "You did a good job."

"Really?" Bruce asked.

Clint let out a laugh and elbowed Bruce. "And you thought I wasn't contributing jack to this!" he exclaimed.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered. He stood up, brushing himself off as Clint and Maria stood as well.

"Does this mean we're safe now?" Janet asked meekly.

"Yes, ma'am," the police officer answered with a smile. "You're all safe."

Clint nudged Bruce. "Aren't I the hero?" he teased.

Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry."

"What for?"

* * *

Maria laughed as Clint handed her a cigarette. "I can't believe he just punched you," she said.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it out," Clint grumbled. He put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. He tossed the lighter to Maria and took a deep drag. He caught the lighter as Maria tossed it back. He blew smoke into the air. "That guy has a mean left hook."

"It's always the quiet ones, isn't it?" she said. She peered around to the front of the building. It was too chaotic for people to yell at the two teens smoking cigarettes around the side of the school.

"Always," Clint agreed. He was about to take another drag when a window snapping open caught their attention. They looked over and watched as two red hands gripped the edges of the window. Clint dropped his cigarette and stamped it out before walking over. Maria did the same.

A leg swung over to the outside, followed by half of a body, before the rest of the person fell out the window and collapsed on the ground face-down. Clint and Maria kneeled beside them and rolled them onto their stomach.

Staring back at them was a wide-eyed and blood-drenched Pepper.

"Pepper?!" Clint exclaimed.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Whose blood is this?" Maria questioned.

Pepper stared back at them, cringed, and let out a blood-curling scream.


	5. Loki and Pepper – Yearbook Clubroom

_Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in – I don't want to die._

Pepper caught herself gasping again and clamped a hand over her mouth. Breathing through her nose wasn't much quieter. God, she felt like she was in a horror movie, and that the serial killer was in the same cabinet as her.

This was worse than a horror movie. This was real life. In real life, the killers don't hesitate with some pitiful cat-and-mouse chase for the hell of it. They go for the kill. The end.

Pepper was certain that she was going to pee herself from the fear.

She had no idea where Loki was hiding. She heard him shutting the door and pushing furniture against it, but after that, he was silent. He was silent and unpredictable, two of his best and worst qualities. She hoped that he hid himself. Or better, got the hell out of the room to call for help. There was no way the bad guys would make it this far in the building before –

She heard the door open, crashing against what sounded like chairs. It took all of Pepper's energy not to scream.

"Oh, you're dead when I get in here, you little shits!" The voice was harsh, slightly hoarse, and definitely irritated. "You go check out the upstairs. I got this." Pepper at least took relief in knowing there was only one of them. But she had no idea what this one person wanted, who they looked like, or what they were armed with.

The intruder kicked and shoved the door as he tried to undo Loki's work. Pepper was grateful for Loki's quick thinking.

The barricade didn't hold up forever. It took five minutes (the intruder's determination was horrifying) for it to be moved enough for whoever was out there to slip in clumsily. "Damn, you crafty bitch," the intruder hissed. Heavy footsteps paced the room, occasionally passing Pepper. She had to cover her mouth and nose to quiet her own breathing. She didn't want to know what would happen if they found her in here.

"Come on, kittens," the intruder said. "Don't hide forever. I just want to play."

_Oh, god, please don't be some kind of pervert_ , Pepper though as she moved her other hand to cover her mouth. She felt tears slide down her cheeks. She only wanted to finish the yearbook today. She didn't want to play some life-or-death game with a creepy murderer.

The footsteps grew closer. "If I was a student, where would  _I_  hide?"

_I'm dead._

Who would miss her the most? Tony? He would be devastated. She didn't want to put him through that. And Rhodey, too. She could see them crying over her grave at her funeral.

_I love you guys so much._

Suddenly, there was a crash across the room that made the footsteps stop and Pepper hold back a gasp. A pained grunt followed.

"Well, well, well," the intruder said. The footsteps were quieter as they crossed the room. "Who do we have here?"

_Oh, please, no, Loki. Tell me you didn't…_

"Pleased?" Pepper heard Loki ask. "Or disappointed? I know most men have some fantasy akin to  _A Clockwork Orange_  about these things."

"I'm not a big fan of  _Singing in the Rain_ ," the intruder said.

Why did he have to play the hero? Why couldn't he just stay hidden? No one would have guessed they were in here! If Pepper wasn't so terrified, she would have been angry with Loki's recklessness.

"Aren't you a bit underdressed for school?" the intruder asked.

"Depends on how you look at it," Loki replied. "You like?"

"You some kind of slut?"

"If that's what you're into."

Pepper was going to punch Loki when they got out of this if he was seducing a random crazy person.

"You're not my type."

"No one in here to judge."

"I don't care. Nice try, kid. Not happening."

"Oh, come on. I thought most guys got off on empowerment. Or is the porn industry wrong?"

"Most of my porn involves a woman."

"Again, I'm not judging. Nor is anyone else."

_Oh, screw it_ , Pepper decided.  _If you can screw him into freeing us, I will love you forever._

"Stop it, kid!"

"Says who? Just let me…"

Pepper's eyes widened when she couldn't hear Loki anymore. The chilling chuckles of the intruder were even less comforting.

"At least there's an off-switch on you, fruitcake," the intruder said. "You dumb enough to keep talking?"

"Can I at least ask you something?" Loki asked.

The intruder grunted. "Fine. Shoot."

"If you're not going to sleep with me, and you haven't killed me yet, then what  _are_  you planning on doing with me?"

"Because pretty boys like you are worth a good amount on the market."

"But I'm not pretty enough to sleep with?"

"Shut up!"

Pepper wished she could see what was happening in the room. She didn't know what the intruder or Loki was doing, where they were, or if she was about to be caught. Were they the only two in the room still? Did another intruder join in without saying anything? When were the police coming? Why didn't she bring her phone with her into the locker? She could be texting someone to call for help right now! But this was Loki, and Loki always had a plan. She had no choice right now but to see if it would work out for the best.

"So where'd you get the Glock from? Black market? Gun shop? Amazon? I hear they go for forty-five bucks on Amazon if you go to the right guy." Pepper held in a sigh. Loki was always quite talkative once you got him going. "Right handed or left? Or is it ambidextrous? My brother's friend has an ambidextrous Glock 43. He's very talented with  _both_  of his hands. Are you handy, mister shooter?"

"Shut up!"

"Why should I? It's not like your actually going to shoot me."

Pepper's heart stopped for a beat at the click of the hammer. "Wanna test that little theory?"

_Oh, for the love of every deity in existence, shut the hell up for once in your life, Loki._

She didn't hear Loki give a smart-ass comment to their captor. Instead, she heard a strangled garble come from  _someone_ , then a body hitting the floor.

_Holy crap. I'm next. I'm next. I'm –_

"I got him, Pepper," she heard Loki say. "He's–"

_BANG!_

Pepper yelped. Her chest was heaving, her heart was pounding. She couldn't hear Loki. Why wasn't Loki talking? What was going on?

_BANG! BANG!_

Two more gunshots. Pepper still had no idea who was shooting the gun, and she was too afraid to find out who it had been.

"It's all right, Pep," Loki said, much more strained and forced than last time. "He's dead this time. I promise, it's safe to come out."

Pepper tried pushing at the doors. They were locked. "I – I can't get it open," she choked out. She could feel her eyes welling up.

"Just… just gimme a moment, babe," Loki slurred. Fat tears fell down her face as she heard Loki drag himself across the tiles. "I'll getcha outta there."

"Promise me you're okay," she whimpered. "Promise me we're both getting out of this okay."

"Now, now, Peppy." Loki's laughter came out as weak wheezes. "Y'know I can't lie to you."

"I don't care. Lie to me now. Give me all the lies you have. Just tell me that you're okay."

Pepper jumped as something heavy pressed against the cabinet. The door handles creaked as they were shifted to an unlocked position. Once the weight was off the door, Pepper shoved it open, in time for Loki to fall in front of her.

Pepper moved back into the cabinet and covered her mouth to suppress a building scream. Their shooter, an older man, was laying on his back with his head turned toward her, his dead eyes staring into hers. There was a deep gash running across his neck, and two bullet holes on his forehead, likely Loki's doing. Loki was slumped before her, trying to sit himself up, one hand clutching at a bleeding wound around his ribs. He was trying to speak, but he could only cough up blood.

Suddenly, Pepper switched into a different mode. She moved out of the cabinet, careful not to touch Loki, and grabbed her coat off one of the chairs. She then laid Loki down on his back (she wasn't sure if it would be helpful. It wasn't like she was a doctor. These were tips from watching reruns of  _Lost_  with Tony and Rhodey on the weekends) and pressed the jacket to his wound, applying pressure though she could see how much it hurt him. Her green jacket was soon stained red, and so were her hands. Loki tried grabbing at her – red, red hands. Red everywhere. Red painting the tiles, red covering the dead man in the center of the room, everything was red–

Loki's hands found her face and pulled her toward him. He put on his best smile and wiped away her tears. He was mouthing words, but the blood – red, red blood, blood so red it was almost black, oh, god – that had to be filling his lungs was making it hard for him to speak. Pepper was horrible at reading lips, and she shook her head in confusion. It all became clear when Loki reached weakly for the gun laying not too far from his head. Pepper had never seen a gun in person. Tony said his dad showed him a gun once, and Rhodey promised that guns were heavier than they looked. She wondered how heavy this gun was.

Pepper moved one hand to reach for her phone, but Loki quickly pulled her hand back. He stared her in the eye, trying to be serious as he coughed out more of that awful dark red, and Pepper knew. Loki didn't want her to call for help. He wanted her to let him die – kill him off, even. And she could imagine. He had to be in pain, so much pain, as that red filled him inside out…

Who knew how much time had passed. Time had seemed to slow down, like Loki's breathing. The only thing that was fast were Pepper's tears.

Loki then lifted a hand, much weaker and shakier than before, to point at the window he has climbed through earlier. An escape. Going through the school meant running into any other shooters. At least if no one had come yet, she could get away and call for help. There was a 7-Eleven down the street. Surely someone would have a cellphone, money for a payphone, a random cop pulling into the parking lot for coffee, something…

Pepper hugged Loki the best she could without moving him. He grasped at the front of her shirt and spluttered more blood. She whispered promises of finding help and saving him. Loki could barely express anything.

So Pepper slammed the window open and gripped each side with her hands. She hoisted one leg through the opening and pulled herself through halfway. She tried to keep herself balanced while at the same time pulling the other leg through, but fell face-first instead. Someone flipped her over – Clint and Maria. What were they doing out here? Were they safe? Were they saved? Their hands were all over her, and suddenly everything was too claustrophobic. Their mouths moved, but no sound came out.

She screamed. Oh, had she been holding that one in for some time.

More people started gathering around. Policemen. Teachers. Students she didn't recognize. Someone moved her into a sitting position. A policeman was blocking the window – her red, red fingerprints staining the glass and bricks – while someone – Thor? – was trying to shove past him. People helped her stand and move away from the window, away from Loki – was Loki okay? Was he alive? Was he choking up all that horrible, horrible red, red, red–

Rhodey. That was a familiar face. And Tony. They were trying to talk to her, but it was going in one ear and out the other. Tony tried snapping his finger in front of her, but Rhodey made him stop. They were sitting in a car – ambulance? – and a flashlight was in both of her eyes.

Pepper had no idea what was going on. She didn't know how to react or what to do. All she could think about was all that red, red, red, red…


	6. Darcy, Jane, and Thor – Honors Pre-Calculus Classroom

“You know, when I said I wanted to get out of the math test today, this wasn’t what I meant,” Darcy whispered.

“Oh, my god, Darcy!” Jane hissed. “This is a serious situation!”

“So is my math grade!”

“Quiet, girls!” Mr. Selvig ordered. “And Miss Lewis, that test will end up happening.”

Darcy crossed her arms and pouted. Jane rolled her eyes. Of course once the fear had settled, she lost the ability to take things seriously.

Thor reached around Jane and patted Darcy’s shoulder, smiling at her when she turned her head. “At least you stopped crying,” he said. Darcy smiled back.

“Maybe if we lower someone down to the ground floor, they can find a safe place to call the police from,” Sif suggested.

“And risk someone breaking a leg? That’s too impractical,” Jane said. “And I’m sure someone has called the police already.”

“What else are we supposed to do then? Wait around like ducks? Did you not hear the gunshots? We could be next!”

“What do you want us to do, go out there and fight back?”

Thor was about to tell the girls to stop fighting, but he thought over Jane’s words. Why shouldn’t they go out there and fight back? What was stopping them? There couldn’t be too many people roaming the school with weapons. Who was to say that these people couldn’t be stopped?

Thor pointed the golf clubs he’d noticed in the back of the classroom when he walked in. “Whose are those?” he asked.

Mr. Selvig looked up and at where Thor was pointing. “Those are Carl Lucas’. He said something about the gold team starting early this year–”

“They will do.” Thor stood and crossed the room. He pulled out a handful of clubs and turned back to his classmates, who stared back with blank faces. “Do none of you want one?”

Sif was quick to stand. “I’ll have one,” she said. She took the five iron out of Thor’s grip, lightly swinging it around like a bat. Again, Thor turned to the others. One by one, other students stood and armed themselves. Carol Danvers took the pitching wedge. Jessica Drew took the gap wedge. Monica Rambeau took the seven wood. Marc Spector took the four wood. That left Thor with the putter in his hands. He looked back at his classmates. The ones who didn’t grab a golf club didn’t seem too keen on doing so, despite the number of people who had stepped up.

“Want someone to stay close by while the rest lead the way?” Sif asked, stepping up and readying to take the position.

“I can handle that,” Darcy said. She crawled over to her messenger bag and pulled out a hand-held can of pepper spray. “No idiot with a gun would want to mess with this.”

“Darcy! You know you can’t bring that to school!” Jane hissed.

“So?”

“Girls, you can fight about this later,” Mr. Selvig intervened. “Thor, you lead the way.”

“Yes, sir.” He crossed the room. Monica already had the door open, peering around to see if there were any shooters nearby. “Is the coast clear?”

“Crystal. Seems they haven’t made it to the second floor yet,” Monica answered.

“Swell.” Thor opened the door farther and motioned for the others to come through. After his teacher and classmates made it through, he exited as well. The coast was still clear. Carol and Jessica were in the front, with Sif, Monica, and Marc behind them, their classmates behind all five of them, and Darcy and Jane taking the rear, Darcy looking more than eager to point her mace at the empty air.

“Stay at least five to ten yards behind us,” Thor ordered quietly. “If things get to dangerous, take haven in the nearest empty room or restroom.” He walked up to the front with Carol and Jessica and began leading them through the maze of halls that led to the front doors – and freedom.

“I’m afraid we don’t know each other too well,” Thor said.

“Other than having three classes with you?” Carol asked. “And our names?”

“Yes, I know those things. But not much else.”

“Oh. Well, I’m captain of the soccer team.”

“Good for you. I am pitcher and batter for the baseball team.”

“Everyone knows. Headmaster Summers spent five minutes worshipping you on the morning announcements last spring,” Jessica said with a giggle. “I’m a gymnast. I placed second on floor routine this season.”

“Why not gold?”

“Technicalities that only the judges caught. I’m sure you know how much of a pain those are.”

“I do.” Thor was going to ask something else, but the question was lost when he heard the soft footsteps squeaking their way from the nearby hall, directly to their left. It happened to be right by a stairwell too. Damn.

Thor put out his arms to stop Carol and Jessica from walking forward. They did the same for Monica, Marc, and Sif. The students behind them stopped as well, pushing against the wall of lockers and crouching in a huddle. The students with weapons tightened their grips.

“Anyone want to go first?” Thor whispered.

Marc tapped Thor’s shoulder. “I’ve got this,” he said. He reached into a nearby trash can and pulled out an empty glass bottle. “Be ready. I’m bringing them this way.” Marc walked forward, near the cross-section of the halls, bottle swinging in his hand. He peeked around the corner and leaned back. He held up seven fingers for the others, then suddenly sprinted ahead. They heard the sound of glass shattering before Thor knew he had to get into the fight and stop Marc from doing something stupid.

Thor charged after Marc, the girls at his side, their feet barely touching the ground at the speed they were going. There were the seven gunners Marc had mentioned, one of them recovering from the glass bottle he’d been hit with. Marc was wrestling with another one, and the five who were on their feet decided to go after the group running at them.

Monica, who was the fastest, made it ahead of the group and tackled the first man she made contact with. Forgoing the golf club, she decided to punch the man in the face instead. He tried shooting at her, but she twisted it until his finger snapped from being caught by the trigger. One smack to the head with the butt of his gun knocked him out. She then grabbed her club and pointed the gun at the guy trying to stand up.

Carol didn’t hesitate swinging first, nailing her guy across the face while he was still stumbling with freeing his gun from its holster. He was low enough for her to kick in the Adam’s apple. He spluttered and coughed as he tried to breathe through the intense pain.

Sif didn’t bother using the wedge of her club, but rather the blunt, grip end to fight off her man. He forgot his gun to try wrestling Sif for the club. She head-butted him in the nose and shoved him back, before whacking him across the face with the iron.

Jessica impressively vaulted over her guy. She then spun and jumped onto his back, latching on like a spider. She held her wedge with both hands and pulled it tight against the other guy’s neck until he passed out.

Thor had the trickiest guy – the only one who had his gun ready and aimed at him. He parried around the bullet shot at him and knocked the gun to the side. He dropped his club and grabbed the man’s arms. The man was thrown over Thor, landing on his back. Sif, who made it to Thor’s side in case he had been shot, kicked the gunner in the head, knocking it against the lockers and the man unconscious.

“That was entertaining,” Sif said.

Thor looked around to see their damage. Only four of the men were bleeding, but none had any life-threatening injuries. The only one conscious was the one Marc hit with the glass, who had his hands in the air and Monica pointing a gun at him.

“The police will want one of them alive and talking,” she explained.

“Yes, they will,” Thor agreed. “Very good thinking. He shall come with us.”

Marc walked back down the hall. “Coast is clear,” he said for his classmates. They slowly crept around the corner, eyes locking on the unconscious men on the floor. In the back of the crowd, Jane was staring awestruck at Thor.

“If we take the stairs, we’ll be at a bigger risk,” Carol said. “Golf clubs won’t protect us.”

“What can we do about that?” Thor asked.

Carol looked down to the few scattered gun on the floor. “One or two of us take the lead with the guns. That was we can shoot them down before they shoot us.”

“Are you really suggesting–?”

“Yes, Thor, I am. Because it’s either us or them, and I’d rather live out the rest of my life, thank you.” Carol reached down and picked up a gun. “We might have hearts, but they most likely don’t. They won’t hesitate to kill us.”

Jessica grabbed another gun. “I’ll take the lead with Carol,” she offered. Thor wanted to tell them that this was crazy and that there had to be another way, but instead he nodded and held open the stairwell door for them. Marc, Sif, Monica, and their hostage went through next, and Selvig traded places with Thor so he could go on ahead before the students came through too.

At the bottom of the staircase were Jessica and Carol, weapons pointed at the closed door in case someone tried to open them. Sif was motioning past the stairs, where there was a door that led to the side of the school. Monica and Marc were already outside with their gunman. Thor stayed beside Sif and helped motion his classmates and teacher through to the door. Once they had cleared, Thor made Sif go ahead, then slowly helped Carol and Jessica leave one by one. The girls deposited their guns by dropping them on the tiles before running along the front of the building and joining the crowd out front.

Jane was standing against the wall, having stayed behind to wait for Thor. Thor waited for the doors to shut before approaching Jane. “Is something the matter?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I just… you were brave back there,” she said. “I’m… um, thanks.”

Thor smiled. “You’ve very welcome, Jane, though I am not the only hero.”

“Yeah, I know you’re not. But still…” Jane stood on her toes and kissed Thor’s cheek. “You’re my hero.” Jane gave a timid wave before heading off, face beat red. He could hear Darcy’s taunts over the roar of students.

Turns out the comic books he read as a child were right. Save the day, win the girl, and all that jazz. He leaned against the brick with a dumb grin on his face. He was lucky.

Faintly, he heard his name being called. He ignored it, thinking it might’ve been Darcy coming to harass him, but then it grew louder, and the panic in it rose. He couldn’t tell whose voice it was, but he had to know who they were, right?

Around the corner, a girl appeared. She looked vaguely familiar, but he didn’t know her. “Are you Thor?” she asked. Thor noted her strong accent.

“Yes, I am he,” he said. “Who are you?”

“I am Wanda. My friend told me that you need to come to the other side of the building.”

“Who? Why?”

“His name is Rhodes. I don’t know why, he just said to get Thor.”

Huh. It was rare that Tony’s friend Rhodey talked to him. What could the fuss be all about? “Alright, Wanda. Lead the way.”

Wanda took Thor’s hand (it was tiny and soft compared his to large, calloused form baseball meaty hand) and led the way. The closer they came to reaching their destination, the more people turned to face Thor, pale and in shock. He had no idea why, but dread was starting to fill him. What happened? Why did it involve him?

Maria and Clint were running toward them, not hesitating to shove people aside. Thor felt bile rise in his throat at the sight of the blood on their hands. “Thanks, Wanda,” Clint said. “Go back to your brother. You don’t need to see this.” Wanda nodded and pulled her hand from Thor’s. She disappeared into the crowd within seconds.

“What’s going on?” Thor asked. Maria and Clint both looked unusually solemn, while Clint looked a bit terrified. “Whose blood is that?”

“I’m so sorry, Thor,” Maria said, not answering his question.

“Sorry for what?”

Maria elbowed Clint. Thor was growing more frustrated with this game. “Loki came to school today,” Clint said. “He snuck into the yearbook room. He… he saved Pepper, is what he did. And… I’m sorry for every bad thing I’ve ever said about your brother.”

Thor felt his heart drop. “No, my brother is sick at home,” he said. A laugh burst from his throat. “I don’t know what kind of prank this is, but it’s far from funny.”

“You’re right, Thor. It’s not funny. And it’s not a prank either,” Maria said. Thor shook his head. She had to be lying. “It looks like one of the guys got into the room. That guy’s dead, but he got Loki before he was killed. I don’t know what happened, because Pepper…”

Thor zoned out, and whatever Maria said didn’t register. The world grew quiet around him, because they had to be lying. Loki wasn’t dead. Loki was at home, ailed by whatever sickness made it impossible for him to go to school today. He pushed past Clint and Maria and made his way to where he saw a group of people run over with a gurney. People around him instinctively moved aside. Now the dread was weighing heavy on his shoulders, and he had to swallow to keep himself from vomiting. It couldn’t be true. There was no way it was true.

Then he saw the body being lifted through the window (how inhumane could they be to him?!), and the familiar black hair that Loki never wanted his mother to cut, and the nose Thor used to beat up bullies over when they made fun of it, and the shoes that Loki modelled for him when he received them for Christmas, and the hands that were long and bony that Loki used to wear gloves over because he hated them, and those closed eyes that had the brightest eyes that Thor loved seeing sparkle, and those lips that would never smile or laugh or snarl or tell him that he felt anything again…

Thor fell to the ground and howled and cried. He lashed out at Clint when he tried to comfort him, then collapsed against Maria when she stopped Thor from lashing out. He wanted to hold his baby brother and protect him like he wished he had done earlier, but they made him stay back so they could rush Loki to the hospital and _maybe_ try and save him, and shouldn’t Thor call his parents and tell them?

Thor got one good look at Loki’s face. He knew it was too late to save him.


	7. Pietro, Rhodey, and Wanda – Art Room

Rhodey felt a bit claustrophobic, being shoved in the art closet with the few other students who were in there. Their teacher had gone to the main office three minutes before the lockdown was ordered, and she was either trapped in there or hiding in another classroom. Either way, she left with the set of classroom keys, and left her seven students defenseless. Rhodey had one of the other classmates, Carl Lucas, help him push a cabinet in front of the door, which blocked it but didn’t mean that someone couldn’t easily knock it down. The only place they could truly stay hidden if someone did come through was the art supply closet. Everyone was pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and chest-to-chest, the air heavy with their breath and light dim over their heads. If he hadn’t heard the gunshots, Rhodey would’ve been upset that they’d gone through all this trouble for nothing. But now he hoped they were left undiscovered. He was the one closest to the door.

In front of him was who everyone referred to as “freakshows”, the Lensherr twins. Their father was one of the computer teachers, and all of them were from some obscure Eastern European country. At least, that’s what Rhodey knew. He never really got the chance to get to know them so well. The boy was too protective of himself and his sister, and she was unnaturally quiet. Right now, she was whimpering and holding on to her brother tight, and he was shushing her and petting her hair. Rhodey didn’t even know their names.

“You guys okay?” Rhodey asked. The boy looked at him. The girl kept her head buried in her brother’s chest. “At least, is she okay?”

He blinked. “She doesn’t like loud noises,” he said. “She wants our father, but he is on a field trip.”

Rhodey nodded. Maybe it was the lack of clear oxygen (there were so many partially-opened paint cans in here), but he had a bit of a struggle understanding what the boy said. He held out his hand. “I’m James Rhodes. Most people call me Rhodey,” he introduced.

The boy shook his hand. “I am Pietro Maximoff,” he said. “My sister is Wanda.” Wanda turned her head to face Rhodey and gave a small wave.

Rhodey nodded. They were the Maximoff twins, not the Lensherr twins. He wanted to ask why, but decided against it. “At least your dad is safe,” he offered. “And all of the kids with him are safe too. That’s a plus.”

“Our other sister is with him,” Pietro said. “Lorna. She is safe.”

“Yeah, see? That’s a good thing.”

“When do you think the police are coming?” Wanda asked softly.

“Soon,” Pietro promised her. “Someone has called them. They are on their way.”

“We can’t stay in here forever,” Sam Alexander called from the other side of the closet. “We’ll suffocate before we’re rescued.”

“Thanks for the optimism,” Carl Lucas muttered.

“He’s right,” Ava Ayala agreed. “But we can’t get out through the door. The weight of the cabinet alone if we move it will be loud enough to give us away.”

“What about the window?” Danny Rand suggested. “If we can climb out of there, we can sneak around the technology wing and to the front. Surely someone has to be out there by now, right? It’s been a good twenty-something minutes.”

Rhodey opened the closet door and one by one, the students filed out. They pried open the one window that wasn’t blocked by posters and paintings. “Who’s the smallest?” he asked. “Whoever is goes first.”

Everyone looked around and deemed Sam the tiniest, though Wanda was a close second. He sighed and climbed out the window, muttering complaints as he did about not wanting to get shot because a random shooter sees him first. Wanda followed, though she was hesitant about leaving Pietro’s side. Ava was next, then Pietro, then Danny, then Rhodey, and then Carl. They looked around to silently decide who should go first, and soon all eyes were on Rhodey.

“Why me?” he asked.

“Because your one of the JROTC officers,” Danny said. “Natural leadership skills and all that.”

Rhodey didn’t bother arguing. No one else looked like they wanted to take the position. He crept along the wall and looked around the first corner. Nothing but the track was there. He motioned for the others to follow him. He was about to look around the next wing when there was a shrill scream from _very_ nearby. Wanda jumped, and the others’ eyes widened.

“I didn’t hear anything else,” Ava said. “I don’t think whoever screamed is hurt.”

“Let’s hope not,” Rhodey said. He looked around to see Clint and Maria trying to help someone covered in blood sitting up. He quickly recognized who it was. “Pepper!” he cried, before running to her side. The others followed, and soon a small crowd was around her, including other students and a few teachers who were close and had heard.

“Back up!” Maria ordered. “Give her room!” When no one obeyed, she stood up and started shoving people back, not caring who she offended.

“What happened? Is she hurt?” Rhodey asked.

“We don’t know,” Clint answered. “She just screamed. She doesn’t look hurt.”

Rhodey stood and looked at the window, seeing the bloody fingerprints Pepper left on them. Everyone else seemed too focused on Pepper to bother looking into the classroom she came from, so he did so for them.

And immediately fell back, trying not to vomit everywhere. He could see why Pepper was so traumatized.

“What’s wrong?” Pietro asked.

“Don’t look,” Rhodey said. “Whatever you do, don’t look in there.” He stood up, accepting Pietro’s help when he offered it, and brushed himself off. Rhodey looked around and saw emergency workers going to people one by one. Eventually, someone would point them in this direction, and as much as he wanted to go grab one of them, he didn’t want to abandon Pepper.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked. Rhodey turned to the twin. Looked like he didn’t have to leave Pepper’s side at all.

“Can you do something for me?” he asked. They nodded. “Awesome. Pietro, you need to find Tony Stark and send him this way. Then you need to get the emergency people over here too. Tell them someone was hurt and someone else is in shock. You got that?” Pietro nodded and took off. “Wanda, can you find Thor Odinson? He’s a big guy–”

“I can do it,” Wanda said. She ran off in the same direction as her brother.

Rhodey turned back to Pepper, who was now rocking herself and mumbling nonsense while Clint tried to talk her out of it. Rhodey had to help pry them apart. Clint’s hands were now sporting bloody fingerprints. Pepper then clutched on to Rhodey’s leg. He just let her. He didn’t know what to do other than wait for someone to come and help them.

“What’s inside the room?” Clint asked Rhodey.

“You don’t wanna know,” Maria answered, who had cleared most of the crowd and was now getting a good look inside the computer lab. She grimaced and tried to wipe off the bloodstains from her own hands. “It’s not pretty.”

“I figured that much. Whose blood is this?”

“Loki’s,” Rhodey answered. “It’s Loki’s.”

Clint blinked thrice at Rhodey, his face blank, before a forced laugh escaped him. “You’re joking,” he said, a few more giggles coming out. When Maria and Rhodey shook their heads, Clint’s face fell. “Seriously, you have to be joking. Thor said so himself, Loki was home sick. He didn’t come to school today.”

“And he’s going to be thinking the same thing when he finds out,” Maria said. She pulled Clint to his feet. “Come on. We’ll break the news. I don’t think he needs to see this.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Rhodey knelt down by Pepper, who still held on to his leg. She was staring at the window, her face pale. He pulled her face against his chest when two policemen arrived and took a peek inside. One climbed in and announced that Loki was dead. Rhodey closed his eyes and hugged Pepper tighter. He wasn’t sure if she heard him. The ambulance attendants rushed over and had the policemen help lift Loki out through the window (did they really have to, Rhodey wondered, right where anyone could see this and be horrified too?) and onto a gurney. When Thor saw and began howling in agony, Pepper began whimpering.

“Pepper!” Tony cried as he finally made his way over. Fortunately, Loki had been covered with a blanket, and Thor wasn’t a screaming ball of rage (though the fact that he might have broken one of the officer’s noses trying to get to his brother was quite the sight). He sat down next to Rhodey and yanked Pepper away from him, trying to get her to focus. “Pepper? Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s wrong? Snap out of it.”

“Tony, stop it,” Rhodey insisted. Tony started snapping his fingers in Pepper’s face and around her ears. “Damn it, Tony, that’s not helping,” he snapped. He shoved Tony’s hand away from Pepper. “She’s probably in shock. She zoned out and for now, she’s not coming back.”

“Well then why the hell is she still sitting here? Let’s get her out of here!” Tony stood and tried making Pepper stand up, but she slumped back to her knees. Rhodey sighed and stood to help Tony carry her. They weaved their way through the mass of students and staff, most of whom ignored them, until they found the ambulances. All four of them were occupied, most of the attention on the one they were loading Loki into.

“There!” Tony exclaimed, pointing to the one with Natasha and Steve. They carried Pepper over and sat her down next to Steve, who was using his inhaler. Neither boy asked Natasha why she was crying.

“Is she okay?” Natasha asked. Rhodey shook his head. They left it at that.

Finally, someone made their way over to check on Pepper, waving a flashlight in her face. The attendant said Pepper would need to be brought to the ER just to make sure she was okay, along with Steve. After fighting with the group of teens, the lady allowed Natasha, Rhodey, and Tony to come along too. Natasha sat in the front seat while Tony helped Steve regain control of his breathing and Rhodey sat with Pepper and held her hand.

“Why did this happen?” Rhodey found himself asking.

“What do you mean?” Tony replied.

“I mean, why today? Why our school? Why us? Why was Loki killed, and why are our friends being put in the hospital? What’d we do to deserve this?”

“We didn’t do anything, man. It just… happened. Those assholes who broke into the school happened. They saw a fancy school and decided to just go for it. Or maybe they had a personal vendetta. I don’t know. There are bound to be dozens of news stations covering this.” Tony sighed and leaned back against the wall. “I wish I’d stayed home today.”

“Don’t say that,” Steve insisted. “Please… never say that.”

“Why?”

“Because… I bet Thor… is wishing that Loke… Loki did the same.”

The boys looked down at the floor quietly, save for the sirens. Rhodey vaguely felt Pepper squeeze his hand. He squeezed hers back.


	8. Epilogue – The Aftermath

“ _Tragedy strikes a Westchester private school that was attacked by a group of shooters on Monday, February tenth. Ten students’ lives were taken, and dozens more have been injured…_ ”

“ _Many are speculating what caused this group, known as ‘Hydra’ according to the two members involved in the shooting who did not commit suicide, to want to attack the students…_ ”

“ _One of the sisters of the shooters says that her brother is a loving person, and is sure that he was coerced into being involved…_ ”

“ _A vigil will be held at the school’s track next Tuesday for the fallen students. All family, friends, and sympathizers are welcomed to this…_ ”

Natasha grabbed the remote from Tony and shut off the television. “You’re not helping anyone by watching this crap,” she said.

“I wanna see what they’re saying about us,” Tony insisted.

“That the shooters are all mentally ill and actual sweethearts, and that we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. That we’ll be the reason for gun debates over the next fifty years. Other things neither of us want or need to hear.” Natasha plopped down on the couch next to Tony. “Bucky has a lot of nerve damage in his forearm. They aren’t sure if he’ll regain feeling in it. And they have no clue about his motor skills, if they’re still there. Any news on Pepper?”

“She’s still a mess. They won’t let me or Rhodey go see her. Therefore, I’m here.” He motioned around his living room. “On the bright side, no school for at least three weeks.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m just saying.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. She didn’t stop Tony when he turned the television back on, not bothering to surf the channels and instead watching the news.

“ _…the names of the students whose lives have been taken are David Alleyne, Theodore Altman, Katherine Bishop, Elijah Bradley, America Chavez, William Kaplan, Loki Odinson, Nathaniel Richards, Jonas Shade, and Thomas Shepherd. They will all be missed dearly by the community, and to be honored at the vigil being held at the school next Tuesday evening. Here for an interview is one of the teachers of the high school, Erik Lensherr, who had one of his children with him on a field trip and the other two were trapped in an art closet…_ ”

Natasha felt Tony shift around her. She was about to ask what he was doing when she found his head in her lap. His fingernails dug into her knee. She could see he was trying not to cry, but she didn’t know why he was tearing up in the first place. She used one hand to toy with his hair and the other to hold the hand on her leg. He squeezed it back.

Natasha’s phone vibrated on the coffee table. Tony reached on for it and handed it to her. “It’s Sam,” he said.

“Thanks.” Natasha pressed the receive button and held the phone to her mouth, switching it on speaker so Tony could hear too. “How is everyone?”

“ _Pepper woke up for a few minutes, but then she freaked and was given something to keep her… more lucid. Bucky is coming out of surgery sometime soon. Whatever was done to him was pretty bad, from what Sharon’s told me. They say his nerves are damaged nearly beyond repair. Hopefully, not too far from it,_ ” Sam answered. “ _Have you been watching the news?_ ”

“They released the names of the students. One of them is Clint’s friend. You remember Kate, right?”

“ _Oh, shit, she was one of them? That’s awful._ ”

“All of this is.”

“ _I have to go. Steve’s being released. Want me to pick up some food for you guys? You’re at Tony’s place, right?_ ”

“If I order and pay, you’ll pick it up?” Tony asked, shifting so he was face-up.

“ _Sure, man. Steve mentioned he wanted to try that new Asian fusion place downtown._ ”

“Gotcha. I’ll make sure to leave your name.”

“ _Thanks. See ya in fifty._ ”

Natasha hung up the phone and watched as Tony looked up the number for the restaurant on his phone. “Can you get that bourbon chicken? I sampled it once. It’s amazing.”

“Uh huh, sure thing,” Tony said.

* * *

 

Bucky was awake, but his eyelids felt too heavy to move. Everything was quiet, save for the faint distant beeping and occasional scuffle of shoes against tiles. His neck felt sore. He had a headache. He tried to remember what happened before. He was late to school, and he was about to cry on his way over when he knew he would make it after the late bell rang. History class was boring, as always, as they continued into learning about World War I. Then…

Bucky sat up, his eyes wide open, and panting heavily. Oh, god, people broke into the school. They had guns and knives. One of them tried to get into the classroom. Mr. Howlett had him block the door, and then… and then…

The faint beeping was now loud and constant. Two nurses, one male and one female, rushed into the room. The female one held a tub in front of him. Bucky wasn’t sure why, but then he retched and soon found himself vomiting into it. “Let it all out, hun,” the nurse assured, rubbing his back as he vomited his breakfast from however long ago.

Bucky was pushed onto his back once he stopping retching. The loud noise quieted itself. Heartrate monitor, Bucky realized. The nurses were talking to him, but he was still trying to take in his very white surroundings. White like a… when did he get to the hospital.

“Nn… Nnn _nnn_ ,” he said. He wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. What did he even want to say?

“Can you repeat that, son?” the male nurse asked.

“Nnn! Nn… Nah…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“I think he means ‘Nat’,” Steve said from his chair in the corner. Bucky looked over to see Steve staring back at him. How long had he been there? Did Bucky really just try to say _her_ name? “She’s our friend. He’s probably wondering where she is.” Steve’s voice was hoarse. Wasn’t he dying to breathe back at the school? What happened to the school? Did everyone make it out okay?

“Don’t worry, son. I’m sure your friend is okay,” the male nurse assured. He pat Bucky’s head. “Let’s get the doctor to go over your condition, shall we?” The two nurses left the room. Steve pulled his chair closer to Bucky and smiled sadly.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Horrible,” Bucky answered.

Steve laughed, then coughed harshly. “Sorry. I can see why you always yell at me for leaving my inhaler at home. I’ll have to get used to packing it in my schoolbag again.”

“Uh huh. What happened?”

Steve hesitated. “Mr. Howlett got us out of the building. Sharon went with you in the ambulance, and I stayed behind so the kids who needed to get rushed to the hospital could get there first. Someone handed me an inhaler and I stood to the side. I scared Nat when I tried explaining what had happened. It was completely my fault.”

Bucky tried sitting up again at the mention of Natasha, but Steve made him stay on his back with a strong hand and stern face. “How is she?” he asked.

“She made it out fine. She spent the entire time keeping Tony from having a panic attack about not being in the same room as Pepper, and Sam had most of the rest of the locker room arm themselves with equipment in case someone came for them. They were left alone until the police came,” Steve explained. He looked at the door when he heard the scuffling of feet, but just a nurse passed without giving them a single glance. “Anyway, not many people ended I know are here. Pepper has been placed in the psych ward. She’s pretty traumatized.”

“Why? What happened?”

“…Um, it was Thor’s brother. They were in the same room, and according to Rhodey, it looked like Loki saved her but not himself. It shook her pretty bad.” Steve leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his head. “It’s crazy, you know. You and Loki were pretty close partners-in-crime. When the two of you were both absent in homeroom, I was certain you had some stupid prank to pull on us. I wish that would’ve happened instead of… this.”

Bucky nodded slowly. Loki was dead? That kid looked scrawny, but he could take you down faster than Thor. “How’s Thor handling it?” he asked. The two brothers weren’t very close, but everyone knew that Thor loved Loki no matter what happened.

“I heard him screaming, but I didn’t see it,” Steve answered. “I’ll let you know after the funeral tomorrow.”

“It’s tomorrow?”

“Yeah. You’ll still be here though.”

“Why?” At Steve’s hesitation, Bucky shot out his arm. “Steve, I swear to god…” Bucky went to point a finger at Steve when something felt wrong. It felt… god, what did it feel like? He couldn’t place it, but he did know that it made him draw his arm closer to his body and shield it with his better arm (why could he feel with one and not the other?!). His breathing grew shorter and sharper, and he felt himself tearing up.

“The knife, it messed up your muscles and nerves,” Steve said quickly. “I overheard the doctor telling your mom, and I wasn’t sure how to break it to you–” The doctor and several nurses flooded into the room. The spike in the heartrate monitor must have caught their attention. One of them forced Steve out of the room. Bucky called out, wanting Steve to be in here, or Sharon, or his mom, or Nat, or _someone he knew_. Not these strangers whose words went in one ear and out the other, who tried pushing him back against the bed as he fought to sit up. He didn’t notice the one slip something into his IV drip, but he felt the effects as his head felt heavy and he had no choice but to lay down before he fell off the side of the bed.

* * *

 

Rhodey and Tony watched through the tiny window in the door as their best friend in the whole world screamed and thrashed and cried as the nurses fought with her to keep her restraints on.

“She’s suffering from post-traumatic stress,” the nurse explained. “She has a few hours where she’s sleeping calmly, and then a flashback occurs to set her off. She’s been on that cycle since you brought her in here.”

“That’s how Clint and Maria found her,” Rhodey said. “And if I saw what she saw, I’d probably be acting the same way too.”

“Will she be okay? When can you release her?” Tony asked.

The nurse opened her mouth but didn’t answer. She toyed with her nametag, which read “Temple, Claire”, and avoided answering the question. Her silence was answer enough.

“What about for Loki’s funeral?” Tony continued. “It’s tomorrow. I’m sure she wants to at least say goodbye to him.”

“As sweet as that sounds, kid, that’s the very last thing she needs,” Claire said. “Seeing the dead body of the person she watched get murdered will only make things worse on all of us. She needs to be kept in isolation and away from the public until she is deemed fit.”

“So you’re going to keep her in this hospital until you say she can go outside again?” Tony asked.

Claire shook her head. “Sometime within the next two weeks, she’ll be transferred to a facility that is better equipped to help her. It’s in the area, and they do allow visitors. You can even walk her outside when it’s nicer out. When she’s eighteen, if she passes a re-evaluation test, then she can sign herself out. If not, she’ll stay there for however long it’s deemed necessary.” She shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not my field of expertise. I’m just making sure she doesn’t hurt herself. Take it up with the right personnel or her parents.”

Tony opened his mouth to give the nurse a few pieces of his mind when Rhodey put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not worth it,” he said. “Pepper is getting the help she needs. We should be grateful, not angry. At least they’re not locking her away and keeping us far away.”

Tony closed his mouth and glared at Rhodey, then acquiesced. He looked back to Claire, who looked ready for whatever Tony might try dishing at her. “You know she’s extremely allergic to strawberries, right?” he asked. Rhodey and Claire’s eyes widened at the pain in his tone.

“It’s in her records, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a strawberry served to a patient here,” Claire replied. “But I’ll make sure none of them touch her tray.”

“Good. And if you want her to stop flailing, get rid of the restraints. She’s claustrophobic, and tying down her arms and legs so she can’t move them makes her freak out even more. I promise you.”

Claire nodded. “Got it. Will get on that and find an alternative.”

Rhodey and Tony looked in Pepper’s room once more. One of the nurses’ had scratches on her cheek, likely from Pepper’s nails. They waved goodbye and walked out. They had a funeral to attend in the morning.

* * *

 

Thor’s family was falling apart because of Loki. It sounded bad to say that every member of the family saw it happening that way, but none of them thought this would be the reason why. Frigga was frigid and unresponsive half the time. Odin was locked away in his study, the occasional sob overheard from the other side of the door. Baldur went out and came home in the middle of the night half-drunk and ready to tell off anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way. Angela and Sera moved back into the house to help Thor arrange funeral plans, since no one else was bothering to do so. The three of them picked the funeral home, bought the plots (enough to make sure the family would all be buried near each other, even if Loki hated most of them), picked a lovely casket, received floral arrangements from the community and Odin’s business partners, and then Thor backed out when the reality of Loki’s death grew heavier on his shoulders. Angela let Thor sit out for the rest of it, just using him as a chauffeur since neither her or Sera had cars.

The funeral itself had the family of (now) five standing in the front of the room. Family members sat in the rows behind them, some crying when passing Loki’s open casket. Angela’s friends came to support her. Baldur’s teammates came to support him. Frigga’s bingo girls came. Odin’s work associates. Random teachers and students and people in the community.

Thor’s friends, at least most of them, were there. Steve and Sam were first, apologizing for Bucky’s absence, as he was a day away from surgery. Tony and Rhodey apologized for Pepper’s absence as well, since she was still traumatized. Thor held his tongue about how traumatized _he_ felt, but he knew that seeing the dead body paled in comparison to watching him die, and that Pepper and Loki were closer in these recent years than he was to his brother. It took a funeral to bring Loki and Thor this close again, and it made him feel beyond sick. Natasha came alone, saying Clint went to a private funeral for another student whom he was very close with, and Thor understood. Bruce and Maria told Thor they were there for him no matter when he needed it. Sif hugged Frigga much longer than she hugged Thor, and her brother Heimdall offered kind words to each individual person. Fandral, whom he learned had been with Loki the night before _that_ happened, looked extremely awkward to be standing in the room, but Volstagg and Hogun pushed him through the line.

Thor looked out to where his friends were. Steve and Sam were talking quietly. Rhodey was telling something to Bruce and Maria, both looking back at him with cautious curiosity. Natasha’s head rested on Tony’s shoulder. That in itself was odd enough to take Thor’s mind off the building tension in the room.

“You are Thor, yes?” Thor’s attention snapped to the two kids standing in front of him, both pale with sunken eyes and slightly shaking (from fear or sorrow, he wasn’t sure).

“I am,” he said. “Are you friends of Loki’s?”

“Yes,” the girl said, the one who had asked the first question. “We are Wanda and Pietro.”

“Ah, yes, the computer teacher’s children.”

The girl stepped back against her brother, shyness suddenly filling her eyes. The boy spoke up, “We didn’t know you well, but we knew your brother. Not many people are kind to us. Our accents, our religious beliefs, our heritage – it always made us a target.” He smiled. “But your brother was always so kind to us. He took us out to have fun on nights when we were feeling lonely and unwelcomed to the town. He always told us that we were special, and that he loved us for not… caving in.”

“He even came to our Shabbat services,” the girl added. A small smile formed on her lips. “He even learned the Shema Yisrael.”

Thor smiled. He never knew what his brother was up to. Finding out that he was practicing organized religion – their family was never religious, Loki especially – with two kids he only knew as outcasts was surprising. “I’m glad he brought happiness to you,” he told Wanda and Pietro.

Wanda and Pietro shuffled out of the line to find their seats, and soon the service began, with Odin leading it and talking about their family. People laughed over Thor and Angela fighting over who played with their new baby brother first. Thor smiled at the memories of his childhood and of Loki. Loki’s first crush, his first date, his first break-up, busting Loki out of jail for egging that person’s house, talking about a girl he met at the mall that he was certain to be married to, then the boy Loki said he would have kids with if it were possible.

Thor wiped at his eyes and smiled at the memories. At least Loki would live on through those. No one could take that away from him.

* * *

 

Natasha looked around the living room in Tony’s place at her friends, all having returned from a cut-short vigil that ended in students and the reporters who opened their mouths and said the wrong thing.

Sam was helping Bucky sit. Bucky, whose arm was in a sling and had little mobility after the surgery and three physical therapy sessions, didn’t want the help and tried shoving Sam over. Bucky then lost his balance and Steve had to step in to help. Bucky rolled his eyes and accepted it.

Rhodey and Maria were talking about a project the JROTC and student council wanted to do to raise awareness about gun control in the US. Maybe bringing in the debate team, at least the ones who were on their side, to help talk down to the people who came up to the students and were all for every person having a gun on their person.

Pietro was talking animatedly to Clint about who knows what. It turned out that once the kid opened up, he could burn through topics like it was a race to move on from one to the other. Clint was nodding and trying to follow along, but Natasha could tell that the boy was lost.

Wanda was showing Bruce just how flexible her fingers and thumbs were, bending them in directions that had Bruce impressed and slightly sick.

Thor wanted to come, but he was the one who started the huge confrontation, and was most likely sitting in a jail cell and waiting for his brother or sister to post bail for him. Maybe Tony could do it for him.

Speaking of Tony, he was sitting next to her, holding her hand and rubbing his thumb against the back of it, and nursing a bottle of water. Natasha rested her head against his shoulder. This became their new habit, and no one asked them about it. Not that they had to explain themselves. They were two people who spent the day terrified that they lost someone they were close to, and had someone to sympathize with. Most of their friends didn’t lose someone. Clint wasn’t much for physical contact unless he was trying to hook up with someone. Thor was in another situation than the rest of them. Natasha and Tony had their own thing, and that was that.

Right now, everything was weird to Natasha. Tomorrow, everything would still be weird. Two Mondays from now, when they were all supposed to return to their school and pretend that things would go back to normal, Natasha would see Loki’s empty desk and know that everything would be weird. Maybe she’ll still feel that way when school got out in mid-June. Maybe at graduation, there will be a minute of silence for those lost, and everything will be weird for the rest of the ceremony. At their ten year reunion, there might be a section of the cheap dining hall they use dedicated to who they lost, and everything will be weird again.

For now, Natasha just accepted it, and focused on how rough the pad of Tony’s thumb was.


End file.
